Baby Teeth: Bite-sized tales of terror (18 page)

Jen noticed him. ‘Malcolm, go!'

He was looking right at me as he straightened. Then with a curling little voice he said, ‘I'll control your dreams, and make them nightmares.'

Then just bare feet on the stairs, then nothing at all.

The lingering trace of his attention, like a scraping on the skin.

‘Sorry,' Jen said. ‘Let's get this done. Have you finished your half?'

I swallowed, trying to focus. ‘I don't think so.'

‘Warning you, if we have to use plan B, I'm not doing the seducing.'

‘Knowing Kenneth, he'd probably fail us even harder just to make a point.' I tried to look at the pages of notes, but they might as well have been written by aliens. I couldn't even focus on the words. ‘Oh my God, I need a break.'

Jen went to make hot chocolates. I went to the window. It was pitch dark outside. I couldn't tell how late it was. This was a foolish idea. I wasn't even sure how we'd ended up agreeing to do it this way. I remembered Kenneth staring at me, exactly how I felt, exposed and ashamed.

Jen's notes were cleaner and tidier than mine. I knelt down to look at them properly but I couldn't quite get the sense of what she'd written. References to a paper I didn't know – was it in the course readings? And marginal notes; Kenneth's name with some strange spiral around it (positive or negative?), and then on the very last page clearly on the ruled blue lines, ‘that is how they see you/they need to see you/that is how they feed' and

—something landing on my arm—

I jerked my elbow. It connected with the vase, which spun and fell. Flowers spilled. Water didn't need to make a sound as it swam over my notes and Jen's, darkening them, the ink diffusing. I couldn't move fast enough. Water collecting at the edge of the table, droplets bulging and releasing hold.

‘No!' Jen said from the door. She ran over to stand up the vase. ‘Oh!'

It had been a petal, on my arm. ‘I'll get a towel,' I said, but Jen had already gone. This wasn't even her house. I worked the switch but the light wouldn't come on. I could hear the water dripping on the carpet, soft impacts in series.

I remembered Kenneth, furious. It made me dizzy. The house was vast and empty around me. I had always hated this house, hated the way they looked at me, like they knew I wasn't good enough to be there but they didn't want the mess of telling me.

The light was flickering again as I climbed the stairs. I was heavy-footed, unsteady. The door to Malcolm's room was open and in each dull flash I saw the shape of him curled up on the bed. ‘I already did all of this,' I said into the darkness. ‘This was a long time ago.'

His voice from within: ‘They like it.'

I could no longer stand. I crawled over to the bed, hoping the door would not close behind me again. ‘Please,' I said. ‘I'm sorry.'

But Malcolm was fast asleep, a crushed stem dangling from his closed hand, and within the cage of his fingers, staring hungrily, was the flower.

JC Hart

I
t was awfully quiet – too quiet for life with my child. I padded down the hallway and poked my head into Sadie's room to find her staring out the window.

‘Hey, what's up?' I crossed the room when she didn't turn and knelt beside her on the bed, my swollen belly coming between us. ‘Sadie?'

She shook her head, making her dark hair shimmer, then she shuddered and unlatched her gaze from the street before turning towards me. ‘I'm sorry, Mummy.'

I frowned and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. ‘What for?'

A line of tears marched single file down her cheek, but she wiped them away before they reached her chin. ‘It's Hugo. He's gone.'

A flutter of panic beat in my chest. Hugo had been my closest companion since before I met Sadie's dad, before she'd been born. The dog was getting old now, but still ... ‘What do you mean, “He's gone”?'

‘He got out the gate. He went down the Dead Way and he's not coming back.' Sadie bit her lip and gave another little shudder.

I sighed in relief. ‘It's a dead end, sweetie, because it doesn't go anywhere. Remember?'

‘But it does go somewhere.' The depth of her eyes spoke of things I was unable to grasp. I shook off the finger of fear that was tracing my spine and stood.

‘Daddy's going to be home soon, and then I'm going to go look for him. He won't have gone far.'

‘No! No, Mummy! You can't!' She sprang from the bed and latched onto my legs, her head buried in my side.

‘I won't be gone long. I'll take his treats and he'll come back. Don't worry.'

‘You can't go down the Dead Way, Mummy. They want you to.' At least, that's what I thought she said. I tried to prise her off but she was doing a perfect impression of a limpet.

The door slammed downstairs and I sighed, tugging her up my body until she was nestled against my shoulder, her leg hooked over the curve of my bump.

‘Come on, Daddy's home.' I headed to the stairs but when we got to the top Sadie grasped my head in her hands and forced me to stop.

‘You can't go down the Dead Way,' she whispered.

‘I have to find Hugo, honey.' I shook my head, trying to be patient. ‘I keep telling you, there's nothing scary about a dead end.'

‘I'll stop you, Mummy. Sorry.' She kissed my cheek, her eyelashes tickling my forehead as she did, before slipping down. She looked at me one more time, eyes as dark as her hair, and then she jumped.

‘Sadie!' The scream tore from my lungs and I charged down the stairs, trying to stop her tumble. She was always just out of reach, a million miles away.

She hit the landing below and I swallowed back the bile in my throat at the sight – eyes closed, bruises blooming on her body, arm bent awkwardly. ‘Nathan! Nathan quick. Get an ambulance!'

He entered the hall, his face blanching. ‘What? Oh, my—' He grabbed the phone and hit speed dial, pacing frantically, his footfalls echoing the patter of my heart.

‘Sadie, can you hear me? Honey, Mummy's here.' I touched her neck, leaned down to feel the tickle of her breath on my cheek. ‘She's breathing, Nathan, but tell them to hurry!' I wanted to pull her into my arms, but I couldn't move her for fear of making it worse. My tears splashed on her forehead, but still she didn't stir. ‘Come on – come on—'

*

L
ater, after we were all home, I lay on the couch against Nathan's chest, a mug of chai tea in my hand. Twin sorrows ate at me: the missing dog, and the child who was so desperate to stop me from looking for that dog that she would throw herself down the stairs.

‘Something's wrong with her. You have to admit it now. She's always been a little – quirky. But this – I don't even ...' I closed my eyes but the image of her face, her eyes, before she jumped was there, burned into my brain. ‘It's the baby. She's already jealous.'

‘Are you sure she didn't just trip? I mean, it could have been an accident.'

I pushed myself up and glared at him, the warmth of his chest no longer comforting. ‘You weren't there. I saw the look on her face, Nathan. She apologised before she jumped.'

‘She's only six, Megan. I just ...' He shrugged, not willing to admit there could be a problem.

I shook my head, trying not to feel disgusted with him. ‘I'm going to go find Hugo. Keep an eye on her? I just ... I need some fresh air.' I grabbed my coat and the dog lead before heading out the door. I didn't want to see her right now. There were too many bruises on her face and the cast looked too big for her small body to support. And heaven forbid if she woke. Who knew what she might do to stop me this time?

The night air bit into my skin and I winced, focussing on the task ahead. Hugo needed me now. What on Earth had forced him off the property was beyond me, as he'd never wandered before.

‘Hugo!' I called as I crossed the street and headed down the dead end. Dead Way, if Sadie was to be believed. She'd always had an amazing imagination, but this was beyond weird.

The streetlight above me sputtered and fizzed out, leaving me in a pool of darkness. I glanced back at the house. All the lights were on, which gave me some comfort, until I turned back to the dead end and found that it was now pitch black. I shuddered, unable to quell the feeling that something definitely wasn't right.

Still, Hugo needed me, and being afraid of the dark was childish. I walked on, keeping my stride long, aiming to look more confident than I felt. The air got chillier as I went, numbness seeping into my fingers. I tucked them under my armpits.

‘Hugo, come on boy. Time to come home.' I cast one more look back at the window. I could see a small silhouette in Sadie's room. The hand of her unbroken arm was pressed against the window and though I couldn't hear her, I knew she was screaming for me.

‘Quit being stupid, Megan. Don't let her get to you.' I took a deep breath, the chill dusting my lungs. ‘Hugo! Come on. This is stupid.' I kicked at the pavement, annoyed at my dog, and my daughter, but mostly myself for letting her creep me out like this.

A low whimper sounded from a bush ahead. ‘Hugo, is that you?' I called, keeping my voice steady.

He shot out toward me, his belly concave and his teeth bared like he'd been wild for a week, not a few hours. A low growl hung on the air as he snapped at my outreached hand. Bewildered, I snatched it back, shrinking in on myself.

‘What's gotten into you, boy? It's me.' I reached out slowly, gauging his movements. He sniffed at the air and whimpered again, his face drooping into puppy melancholy for just a moment before he grabbed my hand between his teeth and bit down.

My scream frightened him and he let go, running back the way he'd come.

‘Hugo!'

Laughter drifted from the same direction – or was it just in my head? I couldn't tell. I glanced back, but I couldn't see the house; in fact, not a single light shone. It was as though the entire street, the whole city, had disappeared.

Looking for something?

This time, I knew, it was definitely inside my head. Mist rose from the ground, clouding the air and making it impossible to see the way back home.

Your daughter bargained for you, and yet here you are ...

‘Who's there? I'm not speaking to you until you come out.'

We don't need to talk. You've kindly provided the vessel.

I felt it then, something wet, creeping up my leg. At least it felt wet, and it felt real but when I felt for it there was nothing there, nothing but the sensation of something moving on my skin, through my skin, settling inside me. I doubled over, my belly cramping, the baby kicking, and I knew why it wanted me. I knew why Sadie had let the dog out, and why she'd tried to stop me.

‘MUMMY!'

‘Sadie?' Her voice pulled me to my feet and I stumbled towards it. ‘Sadie!'

‘Mummy, come home!'

‘Sadie!' I ran. My legs were awkward beneath me, but I ran, feeling her draw me back from the Dead Way. Suddenly the lights were back on and the house was across the street, and Nathan was there with Sadie in his arms, both looking fearful.

‘Oh, Sadie.' I gathered her up, not caring about the wound to my hand, forcing my mind from the heaviness in my womb, and nuzzled my head into her neck. ‘I'm so sorry I didn't listen.'

‘It's OK, Mummy,' she whispered. ‘You came back.'

‘I did.'

‘Where's Hugo?' Nathan asked.

‘He's gone.' I shook my head, not wanting to speak of him, or anything else. ‘Let's go inside.'

Nathan nodded and headed across the road to the house. I looked back at the Dead Way and shivered.

Sadie pulled my face to hers and kissed me on the cheek. ‘You brought a bad thing back,' she whispered.

‘I know, honey.' I bit my lip, trying not to cry.

‘We're going to have to kill it.'

‘I know.'

D
an Rabarts
is a writer of fantasy, horror, science fiction and the odd things in between. He fits his writing in around raising two wee miracles and carrying on a day job at the cutting edge of New Zealand's film industry. His fiction can be found in numerous anthologies, magazines, ezines and podcasts, including
Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine
,
Beneath Ceaseless Skies
,
Aurealis
,
Regeneration
, and
When the Hero Comes Home Volume 2
.
Baby Teeth
is his first foray into the dark world of editing story collections. Find him lurking on the web at dan.rabarts.com, or in the dusty corners of the house, bleeding words across a page.

Lee Murray
writes fiction for adults and children for which she has been lucky enough to win some literary prizes. She is currently working on three novels, one of which could be bigger than hobbits. Lee wishes she were edgier than she actually is – a fantasy that recurs whenever she's folding the washing.

A
J Ponder
is an Australasian author with speculative fiction published in Australia, New Zealand, and in the UK's Tomorrow Project. She won the Sir Julius Vogel Award for Best Short Story in 2012 with ‘Frankie and the Netball Clone', a fun tale about a young genius determined to avoid sport. AJ's latest book,
Wizard's Guide to Wellington
, and her short story, ‘Dying for the Record', were also nominated for awards in 2013. She is looking forward to more
Wizard's Guide
adventures in London, an electropunk oddity currently in progress with Peter Friend and, of course, more forays into the horror genre.

Alan Lindsay
retired from a career in science to write a book about the environment. However, he took a wrong turn, got side-tracked, and ended up writing fiction instead. He gets the inspiration for his horror stories from his first wife and two sons, with whom he lives in the Bay of Plenty.